As The World Dies Untold Tales Volume 3 (4 page)

Chapter 7

Rune brought Charlene up to the gates, flipped down the kickstand, and slid off, letting the bike run. He didn’t usually trust his ride with other people, but he had a solid feeling about Tito. Rune surveyed the area. There was nothing dead shambling about, which was a good sign.

The tall gates rose high over his head with a fancy pink granite wall extending from both sides of the entrance for a few hundred feet before being replaced with a barbed wire fence. Placing his gloved hands on the gates, he shook them, but they didn’t relent.

“Got a keypad over here,” Tito called out.

The device was inside a small box tucked into a granite pillar.

“I suppose you don’t have the code? We could climb the fence,” Tito said. “Not sure how we can get the bike in though.” He wiped the thick sweat off his weary face.

“Actually, I got the code,” Rune said, realizing the purpose of the numbers the ghost had whispered. Striding over to the box
, he replayed the earlier scene in his mind’s eye, trying to remember the digits. He punched in the wrong numbers three times, but the fourth time he got the combination right and the heavy gates swung open.

“You know these people?” Tito asked curiously.

“In passing,” Rune vaguely responded.

Climbing back onto the bike, he drove up the driveway. The gates automatically closed behind them. He knew it wasn’t true security, but it did make him feel better.

The house on the top of the hill was a modern structure crafted from local materials. The pink granite glowed in the setting sun and the windows flashed with light. The two-story structure was more about style than actual function. Rune could already see it would be a nightmare to defend with all the windows and multiple entrances.

Drawing up to the front door, he scooted Charlene around so the Harley was aimed for a quick getaway. Both men climbed off and stared at the house.

“All these windows,” Tito muttered.

“Yep. A total bitch to defend.”

Walking to the door, Rune began to search through the leafy green plants tucked into glazed pots, under mats, and around the raw wood patio furniture that decorated the wide front porch. He didn’t want to bust out a window if he didn’t have to. There was no point it making it easier for the zombies to get inside.

Tito caught on to what he was doing and also searched. It took a few minutes, but they finally found the key tucked behind an outdoor light sconce.

“Clever,” Tito said.

“Not clever enough. We found it.”

“True.” Tito grinned.

Rune unlocked the front door. Cool air swirled out as a high pitched alarm started to screech.

“Rich people. Leaving the air conditioner on while on vacation.” The alarm was easy to locate and using the same code as the gate, Rune deactivated it. “I can’t say much for their smarts. Same code.” Rune shook his head with disapproval.

“I thought you said you knew these people.” Tito flipped his sunglasses on top of his head and narrowed his eyes.

“The boy who lived here died on the highway. Got tore up pretty bad. He imparted some information before...passing on.”

“You found him?”

“He found me.” Rune shrugged. He didn’t feel like explaining himself.

“Then he died?” Tito studied Rune thoughtfully.

“Something like that.”

Rune stepped deeper into the house. The front hall was massive, and traveled all the way to the rear of the house. Big arched doorways opened to the main living areas.

“You need to tell him,” an old woman with a Mexican accent said from the shadows near the front door.

Rune ignored her.

Tito craned his head, peering into a large dining room. “Did he end up one of those things?”

“Yep.”

Rune’s boot heels clicked against the tiled floors as he searched through the living areas. Tito followed, his footsteps light as a feather. The furniture was rustic and Rune approved of the less frou-frou pieces. There was a full liquor cabinet that Rune fully intended to abuse. He whistled with delight when he spotted a gun safe in the corner of the home office.

“This is exactly what we need,” he said, grinning at Tito. “Get you a decent piece to defend yourself.”

Tito stood with his hands dangling at his side, a wary cast to his face. Though he sensed the man’s distrust and didn’t really blame him, Rune was too tired and pissed off to play nice. He spotted a flicker of the old woman behind Tito and grimaced. Tito glanced over his shoulder, obviously following Rune’s gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just a shadow. I’m just on edge. This whole day has been fucked.” Rune skirted around the massive desk and ignored the pictures of the kid and his parents tucked in fancy frames in a line along the top of it.

“Tell me about it. It’s been a fucking nightmare.”

Rune studied the gun safe. “Key pad.” He pointed to it. “Watcha wanna bet it’s the same code as the gate and house alarm?”

That brought a smirk to the other man’s face. “Man, that’s an easy bet to win.”

Grinning, Rune punched in the code and was rewarded with the audible click of the mechanism unlocking. “Let’s see how good a Texan this fella was.”

Tito moved closer, and Rune stepped to one side as he swung the heavy iron door open. Inside was the arsenal of a man who was a collector, not a hunter.

“An Uzi?” Tito laughed. “Fucking’ ammo waster and they shoot like shit.”

“Might do ya if there was a crowd of them. Probably cripple them up, but I wouldn’t expect any killing shots.”

“I’d rather put them down than make them crawlers.”

“Point taken.” Rune gestured to another weapon. “AK 47.”

“Nah, the Glocks,” Tito said, gesturing to the two pistols.

Rune removed the two weapons and set them on the desk. “I’ll split ammo with you. I’m a Glock man myself.”

“Sounds good.” Tito fished two belt holsters out of the bottom of the safe while Rune stacked the boxes of ammo on top of the desk.

For the next thirty minutes Rune and Tito searched through the various handguns, rifles, and automatic weapons. All were in good condition, but they were leery about some of the older weapons. Finally, Rune settled on a shotgun that brought a smile to his face.

“I love me a Redhead,” he breathed. “Both in my shotguns and women.”

Tito set a Remington next to the Glocks and rubbed his chin, a slight smirk on his lips. “Redheads are
loca
, dude.”

“And that, sir, is why I like them.”

“You need to tell him what you are,” the old woman whispered in Rune’s ear, a puff of cold air freezing his skin.

Rubbing his frozen earlobe, Rune sorted out the ammunition ignoring the ghost completely. “Not as much ammo as I’d like.”

“It’ll have to do.” Tito clipped the holsters to his belt and slid the Glocks into the sheaths. “Yeah, that’s better.”

An uneasy silence settled upon them as they finished taking stock of their weapon options. Rune’s back prickled under the onslaught of the ghost’s presence lingering nearby.

Rubbing his nose, he sighed. “At least we live in Texas where we actually have gun shops. Hopefully they haven’t been picked clean.”

“It seemed to go down fast. People might not have been able to make a run on them.” Looking more at ease now that he was armed, Tito said, “I’m going to see if the TV works. See if there is news on Laredo.”

“Power is still on for now, so might as well take advantage of that while we can.”

“You think they’ll get this shit under control soon?” Tito paused in the doorway.

Rune remembered his daughter’s words and sorrowfully shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

Tito slightly nodded and disappeared into the hall.

“You need to tell him,” the old woman persisted.

Rune could barely make out her form in the growing shadows. He flipped on the lamp sitting on the desk, chasing the gloom away. The ghost remained, a dim outline of a woman in a flowered housecoat.

“I
know
you can hear me.”

With a sigh, Rune brushed past the ghost. In his experience
, talking to a ghost only drew the attention of others in the area. With the world filling with the undead, ghosts would soon be an issue he’d have to deal with constantly. He was not looking forward to it.

Tito stood in the family room watching a massive flat screen. The news channel continuously flashed mayhem from around the world while the ticker at the bottom scrolled with dire bulletins. It was the Texas channel, so most of the updates were about the Lone Star State. None of it was good.

Knuckles pressed to his lips, Tito’s dark eyes surveyed the destruction of the world. His broad shoulders tensed, he looked like he wanted to punch something. Rune paused long enough to get the gist of it, then kept walking toward a doorway that opened into the kitchen.

“You need to tell him,” the old woman hissed angrily upon his entry into the granite and stainless steel gourmet cooking mecca.

The copper pots dangling over the kitchen island began to swing, causing a loud racket.

“Gawddammit,” Rune groused at the ghost.

As the temperature dropped, the tiny old woman’s hazy form started to sharpen. “Tell him what you are!”

Rune gave her the evilest eye he could manage and turned his back on her.

Tito entered the kitchen, his eyes riveted to the wildly swaying pots and pans. “What the hell?”

“Fault line, or something,” Rune grumbled.

The old woman shifted into view, her hands clenched. A pot flew off the rack and hit the wall with a resounding thwack.

“What the fuck!” Tito pressed a hand to his forehead. His dark eyes darted toward Rune. “Did you see that? What the hell is going on?”

Slamming his hands down on the island, Rune stared at the pots and pans banging against each other. “It’s your mama, Tito. She’s pissed ‘cause I wasn’t going to tell you that I’m a fuckin’ medium!”

Frightened by the commotion and obviously unsettled by Rune’s confession, Tito retreated a step.

Rune couldn’t see the ghost anymore, but he felt her cold touch on his shoulder. Her words whispered in his mind.

“Tito, she says it’s okay that you shot her in the head.”

Tito paled, staggered backward, and clutched the doorjamb.

“It was just my body. Not me,” the voice continued.

Rune relayed the message, trying to shrug off the ghost’s icy touch.

“I love him, but he needs to be careful.”

“She loves you, but you gotta be careful.” Rune stepped out of the cold spot, but it followed. “And she’s mighty damn insistent on being heard.”

“What’s her name?” Tito asked in a harsh voice.

Rune cocked his head, heard the name, and said, “Olympia.”

“Shit,” Tito muttered, sliding to the floor. His hands pressed together and tucked under his chin, he closed his eyes.

“And she says you swear too much.” Rune again tried to shake off the ghostly presence, but it was persistent. “She doesn’t take no for an answer either.”

“That’s my mama, for you.”

Leaning over, elbows on the counter, hands cradling his head, Rune listened to Tito’s mother prattle on. Now that she had his attention, she was not going to be silenced until she had her say.

“She says Esmeralda and the boys are alive. They made it to San Antonio and they’re with your uncle and his family at their place. The city is really bad, but where they are has been cleared. The neighborhood rallied and blocked off the roads. She says if you go in to save them, you may not make it out.”

Nodding, Tito listened, his hand slowly sliding over his hair.

“Esmeralda’s father is still alive in Marfa. There’s a military unit there that is fortifying the town. You should go there as soon as possible.”

“Not without my family,” Tito snapped.

“Tell him to go now!” The old woman’s voice was harsh.

Rune lifted bleary eyes. Olympia stood across from him, jaw set, her dark eyes burning. The gunshot wound to her head leaked blood onto her flowered house dress.

“I want him to live,” she said, her mouth not moving.

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Rune said to the ghost, his voice edged with irritation.

“Tell him,” she hissed.

“You’re done here, ma’am. It’s time for you to go into that light and leave your son to make his own damn choices.”

Raising his head, Tito regarded Rune through shimmering dark eyes as the older man argued with the air.

“I don’t want him to die like I did!” Olympia’s anger and desperation tore at Rune.

Banging his fist on the counter, Rune glowered at the ghost. “You can’t coddle him like a little boy and make him run away to Marfa when his old lady and youngins need him. My daughter and her son are dead, ma’am. I can’t save them! Let the man do what he’s gotta do!”